Dear Agony
by MorganCM18
Summary: What happened in the few days prior to Adam being kidnapped and put into the Bathroom Trap. Partially inspired by a song by Breaking Benjamin.
1. Chapter 1

_**I will find the enemy within, 'cause I can feel it crawl beneath my skin. Dear agony, just let go of me, suffer slowly. Is this the way it's got to be? Don't bury me, faceless enemy. I'm so sorry. Is this the way it's got to be? Dear agony…Somewhere far beyond this world, I feel nothing anymore…**_

Alexa cupped her hands under the water flowing from the shower head and wet her face. She let the water drench her body, her hair. She was finally relaxing. Just what she needed right now. She reached out to the corner of the shower.

Damn.

She'd forgotten to buy shampoo.

Some of Adam's was still in the shower, though. She fumbled with the black bottle, trying not to let it slip from her wet hands. She poured some shampoo into her palm. It smelled like him. A smell she was very familiar with and had grown to love. A very fresh scent but slightly musky. She lathered her hair and rinsed it. Repeated the action a second time. The water was alternating from hot to cold every few moments. But she'd been here for nearly 6 months so she was used to it. The water and electricity in this apartment always sucked. God, this place really was a shithole. But she didn't care right now. She just needed a shower.

She had been drawing earlier and the water rinsed away the charcoal from her fingers, creating a black ring around the drain. She let the water run over her face and down her body, making her feel rejuvenated.

She ran her fingers down the length of her long, dark brown hair. A bit of blond was peeking through from when she'd bleached a strip of her hair to dye it pink last year. She never bothered dyeing it back to her natural color once it had faded. Every now and then she thought about dyeing it pink again. Adam had loved it. When her hair was down, the wavy locks cascading messily over her pale and freckled shoulders, the pink showed through brightly. It made her look a bit edgy, kind of punk. Like a cool rocker chick. All features that Adam was very attracted to.

Having pondered the idea once more, she decided to dye it again. Soon, possibly.

She was startled when she heard the apartment door open. The sound of keys hitting the coffee table. Adam was home.

The knob on the bathroom door shook and clicked as the door creaked open. Alexa made a mental note to have the superintendent downstairs have a look at it.

He stepped into the bathroom, his slender body casting a shadow that created a silhouette on the transparent, but foggy, shower curtain.

She stopped, listening.

"Adam?"

A pause, that seemingly felt like forever, then finally,

"Hey."

His voice was low and quiet. Kind of dark.

"How was work?"

Alexa tried to see what the problem, made apparent by the sound of his voice, was.

Another long pause.

"Fine."

Adam had been working at an independent photography agency for a few months now. It wasn't exactly the type of work her was in to, but at least he was doing something that he was remotely interested in. And it paid the bills, so there wasn't much to complain about.

"Same as always."

His voice was a bit muffled over the sound of the shower. Alexa was tired of trying.

"Oh."

The mirror cabinet above the sink opened with a click. She heard some rustling around, then the sound of a pill bottle falling to the floor.

"Fuck."

Adam was prone to migraines. They started out as occasional headaches and progressed to migraines occurring at least once a month, sometimes so intense it made it impossible for him to get out of bed and get to work. Sometimes he'd vomit.

Alexa nearly had to beg him to see his doctor. But he could be so stubborn. It eventually got to the point where he had no choice, and his physician had prescribed him sumatriptan to treat the migraines.

She heard him place the pills back in the cabinet.

"I'll be back later," he sighed.

She knew where he had to go. Adam sometimes did freelance work. It was kind of shady though; sort of like private investigation. He basically got paid to follow around guys whose wives suspected them of cheating and things of that nature. He didn't particularly enjoy this line of work either; it was pretty sketchy. But he got paid good money for it. And at least he was taking photos. Just about the only thing he was passionate about.

"Don't wait up."

He spoke with hardly any emotion. It frightened Alexa. He seemed so empty. She paused.

"Alright."

Her voice was raspy. She cleared her throat, trying with all her might not to start crying.

"Well, g—"

The door shut closed.

"…good luck," she finished her sentence with a monotonous voice. She broke down. Tears ran down her already wet face, blending with the water from the shower. She turned off the stream and leaned against the dark blue tiled wall, feeling stupid. Feeling childish. She was 24 years old for God's sake. Not a toddler. She hated that he made her feel this way. But she hated even more how she let herself get this way. She loved him so goddamn much that she didn't even care about all the hate she felt inside. Love and hate. She felt like a walking contradiction.

She wiped her face and reached her hand out from behind the curtain for a towel. She felt around but didn't feel the one she had hung earlier. She stuck her head out from behind the curtain, her hair dripping water onto the off-white tile, seeing that her towel had fallen to the floor. She leaned over, feet still in the tub, to pick it up. She grabbed it, and when she raised her head, she noticed something on the sink.

Adam's wallet.

And his Marlboros.

He was so forgetful sometimes.

She stood back up in the shower and grasped her hair, ringing out all the water, watching it go down the rusty drain. She zoned out for just a moment, thinking about Adam.

Remembering when they'd first met, first started dating, the first time they'd said they loved each other, when he'd asked her to move in; all happy memories. They would bond over things like music and books and movies. Go to concerts together almost every other weekend. They had similar tastes in music, each with an affinity for rock. Alexa was into 2000s alternative and 90s grunge—her guilty pleasure was Breaking Benjamin— while Adam liked hardcore metal and classic punk. (He had at least 4 or 5 Ramones t-shirts, which Alexa had a habit of stealing to sleep in.) They'd playfully argue about what to put on the radio in the car. She'd tune into 92.9, cranking it when "Smells Like Teen Spirit" would come on. And he'd turn it down, saying "But, Lex, you can't understand a damn word the guy is saying!" She'd laugh and try to find another station, both of them ultimately shutting up when a Led Zeppelin or Pixies song would come on. She remembered the way he'd place his right hand on her knee, the other on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping along with the beat of the song.

Now they drove practically in silence, no touching, no music. It was uncomfortable.

She remembered the way he'd look at her when she spoke. The way he'd laugh at her sarcastic remarks. Flashing his perfect smile at her, his blue-green eyes sparkling. The way he spoke about photography, about music, about anything. Just his voice. His voice, always full of vigor and passion.

But it was different now.

He just seemed so empty. Like a shell. A broken shell of a man that used to be bursting with life and joy and hope.

It hurt her to think of how things had changed and how unhappy they were. But it hurt her even more to think about leaving him. She loved him. Despite all the bad between them, she couldn't help but love him. And she knew he loved her. Even though most days it went unspoken.

Suddenly the door swung open again.

Adam returning for his forgotten belongings.

Reaching for his wallet and cigarettes on the sink he simply said,

"Forgot these."

And with that, he was gone. Didn't even look at her. She may as well have been invisible. With the sound of the apartment door slamming, she broke down again. It took much longer for her to stop sobbing this time.


	2. Chapter 2

As he walked down the dimly lit stairwell of the apartment, Adam reached in his pocket, fishing for a lighter. Pulling out a cigarette and placing it between his lips, he cupped his hand around it, lit it, and stepped out the door onto the sidewalk. He paused and took a long drag. He exhaled, blowing a cloud of smoke into the cold night air. His headache was finally starting to fade away. His doctor had advised him to stop smoking once he'd prescribed him the sumatriptan, but Adam didn't give a shit.

"Okay, Doc. Whatever you say." He was so apathetic.

He adjusted his camera strap around his neck as he walked down the street. He didn't have very far to go, so he had decided to walk instead of drive, figuring the fresh air would clear his mind. Ironic, considering he was already about to light his second cigarette. Adam was infamous for his habit of chain-smoking.

He made his way down the street a few blocks and down a back alley, his shadows long and dark on the graffiti'd walls of the hotel, and into the back door of the parking garage. The garage was only lit by a few fluorescent lights hanging overhead. This was what Adam didn't like about this job: skulking around in the shadows, through back doors of seedy motels. It sent a chill up his spine, a chill he tried to ignore, trying to be a tough guy. Trying to be macho.

He poked his head in the crack of the door and craned his neck to look around. He was alone. He slowly stepped inside and found a trash can that had been knocked over near the back door. He sat on it, trying to be as quiet as possible, still engulfed within a shadow. Tonight he was waiting for some lawyer, or a doctor, maybe. He didn't know the guy's name. But it didn't matter to him. He just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. Back home to Alexa.

He tried not to think about her right now. He felt guilty about the way he'd left her there. Alone. He found himself wishing he'd told her he loved her before he left. That he was sorry for how he'd been acting. But he just shut the door behind him. Not even caring that she was wishing him good luck.

Good luck. He felt like he might need some of that right now, here in this creepy garage.

Knowing that she was trying to get through to him, and how he'd simply brushed away her efforts, not allowing her to climb over the wall he'd built up, made him overridden with guilt. God, why was he so angry lately? It made him feel so goddamn guilty, the way he treated her. But he couldn't help it. It was like a knot inside his chest getting tighter and tighter. Changing him.

He kept thinking about her, what he'd say when he got home, maybe try to patch things up finally.

Adam was suddenly shaken from the back of his mind when he heard a door slam.

The doctor.

Adam silently raised himself off of the trash can, getting to his feet as quietly as possible. He stayed with his back against the wall, still in the shadows. He watched as the man came down the center of the lot, walking slowly. Slowly but steadily.

Adam took a shot.

He advanced closer to the man, his back still against the wall. The man stopped in his tracks and raised his hand over his eyes, rubbing his forehead. Looking stressed, like he had a headache. A feeling that Adam was all too familiar with.

Adam took another shot.

The shutter clicked with a flash.

"Shit," Adam mouthed silently to himself as he ducked behind a cement beam.

The man looked up, looked around, but saw nothing.

Adam was always so good about being secretive, about being quiet, good at hiding. But this time he'd slipped up and left the flash on. His mind was far too preoccupied with guilt. He had to get home. Had to get the hell out of there.

He stayed in the shadows, and as the doctor got in his car and drove away, he took one more shot, remembering to turn off the flash this time.

Adam readjusted his camera strap around his neck and walked down the dark parking lot. Stepping out the back door, he saw the doctor drive down the road, headlights whizzing by in a flash. Speeding. Maybe he and this doctor guy weren't so different. Maybe his head was full of guilt as well, needing to get home to someone. Or maybe he was just a worthless prick. Sometimes the way Adam felt about himself.

He watched as the silver BMW rushed down the street, passed through an intersection running a red light, and with a screech of his tires, turned the corner, disappearing.

"Jerk."

Adam reached in his pocket and took out his cell phone, checking the time.

**11:47pm**

Alexa would probably be asleep by now. But maybe if he rushed home, she'd still be up. Maybe he'd catch her, just about to go to bed. They could talk, he could apologize, and things would just go back to the way they were. He could make up for the last few months of hell he'd put her through. They could go back to going to concerts together and arguing about what to watch on TV and what movie to go see and what to have for dinner. Stupid little things that made them happy to be together. Things that made it okay to live in that shithole apartment. Little things that made their lives worth living because they had each other.

As he thought about these things, these memories, he didn't notice that a smile had crept upon his face and his pace had picked up. He couldn't wait to get home. Home to Alexa. Couldn't wait to fix things. Couldn't wait for them to finally be happy again.


	3. Chapter 3

Alexa bent her head down and wrapped a navy blue towel around her hair. She stood back up and wrapped another light blue one around her body, exited the shower, and stepped in front of the sink. She gripped the ceramic edges of it in her hands and looked into the mirror at her foggy reflection. She wiped the glass with her hand, trying to get a better look at herself. She had some mascara running under her eyes so she grabbed a tissue from the box on the back of the toilet next to her and wiped the black away.

She opened up the mirror cabinet as Adam had done moments before and searched for her moisturizer. She looked around at the array of pill bottles. Prescription medications for anxiety and headaches, a few muscles relaxants. Like a damn pharmacy. Most of these belonged to Adam, however. She hated seeing all of these little orange bottles staring back at her, making her more worried than she already was.

She quickly located the moisturizer, unscrewed the lid of the jar, scooped a bit out with the tip of her middle finger, and slathered it on her face. It had a chamomile scent that relaxed her.

She inhaled deeply and let out a long sigh. She felt exhausted. Physically tired, but mostly mentally exhausted. Emotionally spent. But her mind was so preoccupied that she knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep just yet.

She stepped out of the bathroom and onto the dingy looking carpet, walking into her and Adam's bedroom. She opened up the dresser drawer and took out a white tank top and a pair of light blue boxer shorts. She dropped her towel onto the carpet and pulled on the shorts and tank top, looking at herself in the mirror. She didn't like what she saw. She looked drained. Drained of life. Her face hollow and emotionless.

But she still had so much left inside of her trying to get out. Trying to get from her to Adam. Trying to give a little life, a little joy, back to him. But she didn't know how to get through to him. She felt overwhelmed because she didn't know where to begin. It was like trying to piece together a puzzle without looking on the front of the box first.

Standing in the mirror, she glanced down to the bottom right corner of the frame. A picture. A black and white photograph of her that Adam had taken. She had forgotten about it. As she stared at the photo, she began to recall the moment it was taken…

"No, Adam, don't."

"Oh, come on!"

They had been at the park a few miles down the street from Alexa's old apartment, waiting for a music festival to begin. It was about six in the evening and the sun was setting. Adam was trying to take a picture of her, but she didn't want him to.

"Come on, Lex, you look beautiful."

"Shut up, you creep."

Alexa walked over to a swing set and sat down, holding onto the chains.

"Let me take just one, please? Before the sun goes down."

"…fine."

She steadied herself on the seat of the swing as Adam backed up and bent forward slightly, raising his camera to his eye and looking through the viewfinder, then at her, then through the viewfinder again. Trying to find the perfect angle.

The shutter clicked.

He stood up straight, looked at her, and grinned slyly.

"Now, was that so bad?"

"Yes. Yes it was."

He chuckled as he stepped over to her, leaning down and kissing her.

She'd forgotten all about this and couldn't believe he still had this photo. In the picture, she's wearing a pair of ripped jeans, black All Star Converse sneakers, and a grey t-shirt. Sitting on the swing looking into the lens, she has an expression on her face like, _I can't believe you're making me do this_. But she's still wearing a smirk. An adorable little half-smile. The setting sun casting a glow upon her face, making her eyes sparkle.

She pulled the photo from the frame of the mirror. The edges were a bit worn, some parts faded. Like the way she felt right now.

Behind the picture was another photo strip. From one of their first dates about 4 or 5 years ago. They had gone to see a movie. She couldn't remember which one. She raised her hand to her mouth in disbelief. This one was in black and white as well.

The first picture is of the two of them, just smiling, Alexa's arms around Adam's neck with her hands resting on his shoulder. In the next, she's making a funny face, eyes crossed, brows raised, tongue sticking out. Adam has an aggressive expression on his face, teeth gnashed, holding up his left hand, proudly displaying a pair of rock and roll devil horns. The third is of them as they erupt, bursting into a fit of laughter. And in the last one, Alexa's arms have returned to their rightful place around Adam's neck as they share a kiss, still giggling.

She turned the photo strip over in her hand and read on the back, written in Adam's handwriting:

_Adam + Alexa_

_10/18/08_

Alexa smiled as her eyes welled with tears. But she sniffed and blinked them away, placing the photos back into the frame of the mirror, side by side.

She walked out into the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, not bothering to get a glass. After opening the bottle and tossing the cap onto the counter, she staggered into the living room, dropped her body onto the couch and threw her legs up onto the coffee table. She just sat there, thinking about Adam. She fought the urge to fall asleep, making sure she'd be awake when he got home. She looked up at the clock hanging on the wall of the living room above the TV.

**11:47pm**

She knew that sometimes Adam didn't get home until about 2 in the morning and she was sure she couldn't fight off sleep for another two hours.

She finished her beer and tossed the bottle in the aluminum garbage can in the kitchen, making it rattle with a loud clank. Walking back into her and Adam's bedroom, she glanced at the photos once more, bringing another smile to her face. A bigger smile this time, one that made her freckled nose wrinkle.

She stepped over to her side of the bed without a sound, not bothering to pull down the spread or the sheets. She collapsed onto the bed in a fit of exhaustion, her hair still damp and soaking her pillow. She barely had enough energy to turn the lamp off. But she reached out and pulled the chain, casting the room in darkness, and then she drifted away.


	4. Chapter 4

Pondering over all of the old memories of him and Alexa on his way home had subconsciously made Adam start running down the street to get home to her. He was eager to make things right. Couldn't wait to see her, to apologize. To make up for everything, for how he'd been so cold, and such an insensitive ass. Apathetic.

He got to his building and ran up the front steps, then violently shook the front door trying to get it open. When it finally gave, he quickly made his way up the stairs, tripping once or twice. He got to the third floor, his heart pounding, and jogged down the hallway to his door, 13C.

_Please be awake, please be awake_, he thought as he battled with his keys, jingling one in the deadbolt then another in the doorknob. He swung it open, making the hinges screech, hoping to see Alexa sitting on the couch, waiting for him as well. But he didn't. All the lights were off, except for one above the sink in the kitchen around the corner from the living room, casting a blue fluorescent glow and making shadows on the walls.

"Dammit."

He could barely make anything out, just the outline of the dartboard on the closet door and the white block letters of the street sign hung up on the wall of the living room.

**E. 17TH ST.**

One of his buddies had stolen it as a joke in their junior year of college and given it to Adam for his birthday…

"Here, man. Happy birthday," said Scott, holding out the dented sign that now had a large red bow on it.

Adam looked at him, a confused expression on his face, and reached out to accept the gift.

"Um, thanks. I think."

"You like it?"

"Uh, yeah, of course dude. But, I mean, a gift certificate of some kind would have been just as equally appreciated," Adam retorted.

"Nah. This is better."

"Well if you say so," Adam said as they exchanged glances, triggering an uproar of laughter.

This was a bizarre memory, but one of Adam's favorites. He and Scott had been friends since the first grade, but they hadn't spoken much over the last year or so.

Once his eyes had adjusted, Adam made his way into the kitchen and turned on the light, which flickered, reminding him to change the bulb. He open the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting off the cap and leaning against the counter. As he took a sip, he felt a slow seethe begin to rise within him, pissed that he hadn't made it home in time. His anger, growing stronger and more intense. But he shook it away. He couldn't let himself get like that. Not anymore. He wouldn't let his anger fuck things up any more than it already had. Wouldn't let it jeopardize his relationship with Alexa.

He put his beer on the counter and walked across the living room over to the bedroom. It was dark but he could hear her breathing. She was dead asleep. Carelessly leaning against the doorframe, he glanced over to the right side of the room to his bedside table, trying to make out the red glow of the alarm clock.

**12:24am**

He squinted, letting his eyes get used to the darkness. The red light from the clock slowly illuminated the room and Alexa's body; she was on her side facing away from him, her shadow being casted on the wall next to the bed. Her body was slowly moving up and down as she breathed in and out. Adam found himself growing jealous of how peaceful she was. He decided not to wake her up, not wanting to disturb her.

He left the bedroom, closing the door but leaving it open just a crack, and walked into his darkroom. This was where he found his own peace. He had installed it himself as soon as he'd moved in 4 years ago; it was originally a large closet, but he had found a better use for it. Alexa had helped him, although she knew hardly anything about photography, by painting the walls, ceiling, and cabinets black.

He flipped the switch on the wall and the safe-light turned on, lighting up the entire space, giving everything a red glow. He still had some photos soaking in water from earlier; rolling up the sleeves of his blue striped shirt, he removed them from the bin, shook them off, and hung them on a line with clothes pins.

Then he dropped one on the floor.

"Shit."

He bent down to pick it up and as he did he noticed an old roll of film on the floor next to one of the cabinets. He picked it up and turned it in his hands, trying to recall how old it was. He couldn't remember so he developed it. He was in there for quite some time, but he didn't know how long, not really focusing on what he was doing. Having gone through this process so many times before, he could do it without paying much attention. When it came time to place the photo paper in the developer solution, he stood over the bin, staring into it, trying to make out an image.

He suddenly came face to face with Alexa. The image was still cloudy but he recognized one thing immediately, her eyes. Even in black and white, he could picture her gorgeous green eyes.

He carefully watched as the rest of the photo developed, her hair, her freckles, her smile; she was in mid-laugh. He removed the photo and finished processing it, then hung it on the line as he had done with the others. He leaned against one of the cabinets and stared at the photograph. Just stared, his eyes moving over her face again and again. God, she was beautiful. He felt so lucky to have her and hated himself for not having appreciated it.

He looked down at his watch.

**1:49am**

He had lost track of time. He let out a long yawn and, with a sigh, walked out of the darkroom and into the bedroom. Alexa hadn't even moved. He somehow felt responsible for her being so exhausted lately. He'd put her through a lot. Jesus, how could he not have realized what he'd done to her until tonight?

He walked over to his side of the bed and took off his blue button-down but kept on his white t-shirt, then undid his belt and took off his jeans, carelessly tossing them on the floor, leaving a pile in front of his dresser. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over, resting his arms on his legs, his hands running through his messy dark hair. He suddenly felt just as exhausted as he imagined Alexa must have felt. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and yawned again, loudly. He turned around, hoping that he hadn't disturbed Alexa's sleep. But she just lay there, breathing in and out, peaceful.

Adam slowly pulled his legs up onto the bed, lying his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes trying to drift away into a sleep as deep as Alexa's, but found it nearly impossible. He kept racking his brain for what to say to her when she woke.

_I'm so sorry._

_I don't know why I've been acting this way._

_I've been such an ass lately._

_You must hate me._

_I know I've put you through a lot._

_I hope you can forgive me._

_I'm sorry. I feel terrible. I love you._

He couldn't think of the right things to say or how to say them. Adam was never really any good at communicating. Sure, he could retort with a sarcastic comment in less than .8 seconds, but he was never the kind of guy that was able to vocally express his emotions. To be able to open up to someone was a very difficult thing for him to do. He had a wall built up, guarding him from growing too attached to anything or anyone. Alexa was the only person in his life he had ever felt remotely comfortable discussing such things with. Maybe because she was the only one that had ever tried hard enough to reach out to him. She certainly made her efforts to climb over the wall he'd built up, dismantling it brick by brick. But lately he'd been trying to repair that wall, making it taller and stronger. But Alexa was growing tired of climbing, tired of trying to tear it down. And Adam was finally beginning to understand how exhausting it must have been for her.


	5. Chapter 5

Adam grabbed the t-shirt out of Alexa's hands and threw it across the room.

"Lex, stop! Why are you doing this?!"

Alexa ignored him and stormed across the bedroom to retrieve the shirt, balled it up in her hands and shoved it in her suitcase.

"Goddammit Alexa, what the hell is going on?!"

He was practically screaming, but still she ignored him.

"Would you _please_ just talk to me?!" he yelled as he reached out, grabbing her wrist, but she shook his hand away.

"I just can't do this anymore, Adam."

"Do what? What are you talking about?"

"I'm just tired of trying, okay? This is exhausting."

"What is? What's exhausting?" He was having a hard time getting answers from her.

"Would you just calm down for a second?" He slammed her suitcase shut.

"Just tell me what's wrong. I don't understand what's going on here."

"That's exactly it, Adam. You don't understand. You don't listen. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being stuck here with someone that won't listen to a fucking word I say. Sick of being with someone that needs help but doesn't want it. I'm fucking tired, Adam, okay?"

Grabbing her suitcase from him, she stormed out of the room. He ran after through the apartment but she walked out the front door, slamming it behind her.

With the slam of the door, Alexa woke up. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it beating in her chest. She was sweating but her body was like ice. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and sat up, pulling her knees against her chest, the feeling of guilt washing over her. Then she turned to look beside her. Adam was lying next to her, still asleep. He was on his back with his hands on his stomach, his mouth open slightly. He looked so peaceful.

The next thing she noticed was the smell; it reminded her of vinegar at first. What she smelled was developing solution. She couldn't stand the smell when they'd first started dating, but now she was fond of it. Adam smelled of developer quite often. This meant that he had done some darkroom work the night before and had probably come to bed pretty late, so he'd be asleep for a while. She didn't mind, though, because that also meant he was doing something that made him happy. She craned her neck to look past him to see the clock.

**6:56am**

She got up out of bed and stretched her arms over her head, cracking her back. She made her way over to her dresser and changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a grey sweatshirt over her tank top. She grabbed her brush from the dresser and quickly ran it through her long, wavy hair, exposing the blond, reminding her of her decision to dye it pink again. Then she bent over and pulled all of her hair to the crown of her head and quickly tied it into a bun with a hair tie from her wrist.

Alexa left the bedroom and entered the living room, looking for the car keys and her wallet. Once she located them on the kitchen table, she walked back to the bedroom, leaned against the doorframe, and watched Adam. Just watched him sleep. Wondering what he was dreaming, hoping that it was better than what she had dreamt.

She stood there for a moment and then closed the door, trying not to wake him. She walked out the door and headed downstairs to the car. She stepped outside and a chill went up her spine. It was mid-September and it was beginning to get cold in the mornings. She made her way around the corner of the apartment complex to the black 1996 Toyota Corolla, unlocked it and sat inside. She had a hard time getting it to start since it was so cold out and there had been a frost that night. Unseasonably cold for September, but that was New England weather.

Once the engine finally started, she cranked the heat and turned on the radio, bracing herself for whatever loud metal music was about to blast from the speakers. Adam had a habit of driving with the music up very loudly; he had even been pulled over once or twice because of it. But no metal came from the speakers, no punk music. No Metallica, no Sex Pistols, no Slayer. What played was a Best Coast mix that one of Alexa's friends from work, Jamie, had burned for her. Alexa listened to Best Coast when she was feeling down, which was quite often lately. Normally, Adam would remove such "garbage" from the CD player to replace it with something a bit more loud and aggressive when he drove. So Alexa realized that Adam hadn't driven last night and that he must have walked to God only knows where. This was something that he did occasionally that really worried Alexa. But Adam didn't care, he had to be a tough guy. Whatever. He was a grown man and could do what he wanted. But she still didn't like it.

Trying to distract herself, she turned up the radio.

"_Somethin' in the wayyy, you say my naaammme,_" Bethany Cosentino's voice echoed from the speakers.

Alexa didn't normally like "surf pop," but she had been getting into it lately. And she liked this song; it was one of those songs that gets stuck in your head every time you hear it. She mouthed along with the words as she pulled out onto the street and made her way down the road to Dunkin Donuts.

"_I know the sun is shinin' but I wish that it was dark, you don't even listen when I taaaalk…_" she sang as she pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop.

She found it funny how she'd listened to this song a hundred times, but right now it suddenly took on a new meaning and perfectly pertained to how she felt at the moment.

Alexa got out of the car and walked inside, greeted by heat and the smell of coffee. The smell alone was so strong that she began to perk up. She waited in line, tapping her foot, the song still stuck in her head, anxious to get back home to Adam. They really needed to talk.

She couldn't think of how she'd approach him about it; she was never really sure about what could trigger his anger. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize that she was next in line. She got breakfast for the two of them and left the coffee shop, driving in silence, trying to think about what to say to him.

_Adam, I think we need to talk._

_I'm worried about you._

_What's going on?_

_You know you can talk to me._

_I love you._

She decided that she'd figure it out once she got home. Maybe once she saw him, everything would fall into place.


	6. Chapter 6

Adam rubbed his eyes as he woke up, blinking to let them adjust. He looked over to his right to see if Alexa was still asleep, but she wasn't there. He quickly turned back to look at the clock.

**7:34am**

Why wasn't she here? It was a Saturday so she didn't have to be at the restaurant until six that night. Adam panicked.

"Oh no, oh no, oh God, please, no."

His mind was frantic with thoughts about where she'd gone. She'd finally left him. Packed her bags and left without even saying goodbye. Oh God, how could he have fucked things up this badly? She was finally sick of him, sick of being there. She couldn't take it anymore. He'd pushed her further and further and now she'd finally had enough.

His heart sank and his body went cold as he leapt off of the dark blue bedspread, trying to find his cell phone. He'd call her. He'd call her and they'd talk and everything would go back to normal. That's all. He needed to fix it now.

Adam was startled when he heard the apartment door open, making the hinges creak again. He froze, listening. Then he walked across the bedroom and opened the door to see Alexa coming in, carrying a cardboard tray with two coffees in one hand, and holding two brown bags in the other. She dropped one of the bags as she tried to close the apartment door behind her.

"Dammit."

Adam stood there in the doorway watching her as she bent down to pick up the bag, a tremendous weight lifting off of his shoulders. But he was still filled with anxiety.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?"

His voice startled Alexa, who hadn't seen him standing there.

"I got breakfast," she said, holding up the bags and the coffees, as if she had to show evidence of her whereabouts.

"Jesus, Adam, what's the matter?"

He let out a hard sigh, his body relaxing.

"Nothing, I just got worried when you weren't in bed, that's all."

"Well, I'm a big girl," she giggled, still looking at him as she put the food on the coffee table, opened the brown bags and pulled out napkins. Then she removed the Styrofoam cups from the cardboard tray and placed one near the edge of the table closest to Adam.

"Black with sugar, and an espresso shot."

Adam looked at her then down at the coffee. He started feeling guilty again. How could she be so thoughtful? After everything he'd done to her, the hell he'd put her through. He didn't understand it. But he knew that Alexa was never the type of person that was able to hold a grudge; she had a very forgiving nature. And that was one of the things he loved most about her. She always took the high road, even if Adam couldn't do it himself.

"Thanks," he mumbled, bending down to get the coffee from the table and taking a sip. He burned his lip at first, let it cool off for a moment, then took another sip. It was good coffee, and it just what he needed right now. He was exhausted.

Alexa got some paper plates from the kitchen cabinet and began laying out the food on the coffee table.

"Everything bagel," she said, holding up a bag, but not looking at him. She was going a mile a minute, and Adam just stood there in amazement. It wasn't even 8 in the morning and she was blowing through the living room, full steam ahead, while Adam was still having trouble keeping his eyes open. Alexa happened to be _a morning person_.

He staggered over to her and sat on the couch as she laid out the napkins and the plates, not paying attention to him.

"You didn't have to—"

"It's no big deal, Adam. I don't mind," she said, cutting him off.

"Okay, well, thank you."

So they sat and ate their breakfast together. In silence. Neither one of them wanting to be the first to speak. Adam tried to muster up the courage, and just as he was about to say something, Alexa stood up from the couch and began to clear the table.

As she went to reach for the empty brown bags, Adam caught her by the wrist, then took her hand in his, getting her attention and making her look down at his face.

"We need to talk," he said. Alexa's eyes moved all over him, trying to read his expression. Then she looked into his eyes, and she began to get worried.

She slowly sat back down, not letting her eyes leave his, then she cleared her throat.

"Um, yeah, okay. What about?"

Her heart rate picked up as she began to panic, internally.

_Oh God, this is it. He wants to break up. Oh God, please no. No, no, no,_ she thought.

But Adam was very calm. Still he held her hand. But his grip was tighter now, and he was holding her hand with both of his.

"I'm sorry," Adam said, his voice quiet but steady.

This really took Alexa by surprise. She was in shock; was he actually apologizing right now? She didn't answer him at first, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"…sorry? For what?" She wanted to hear him say it. _For what an insensitive, apathetic asshole I've been. For treating you the way I have. For not being there. For everything I haven't done and for everything I've done wrong._

He looked down to the floor, then at their hands, still intertwined. Then he brought his gaze back up to her face, which still had a puzzled expression as she waited for him to speak.

"I know it's been tough lately. And I know I've been a jerk. For the last few months… I mean, I don't know what's been going on."

Alexa couldn't believe her ears.

"I just… I don't know. Lately it's been so hard. And I don't know why. I just feel so angry, all the time. And I don't know what's causing it or how to stop it."

He looked down again and swallowed hard.

"I've been taking it out on you. I know I have. And I know you probably hate me. But I'm so sorry and I feel so guilty and just hope you can forg—"

"Adam," she cut him off again.

"What?" he said, looking back up at her.

"I could never, ever, hate you. You hear me? Never. Yes, it has been hard lately, and I've been trying with all my might to get through to you. But I haven't given up. And I'm not going to. I love you, Adam. I love you so much, I would never hate you."

Alexa placed the palm of her free hand against Adam's face, turning him toward her and stroking his temple with her thumb.

"I love you too, Lex."

"I know."

This was the first time, in the 5 and a half years they'd known each other, that Alexa had seen Adam this vulnerable. She'd never seen him this distraught. Even when he'd lost his other job 8 months ago, or when he'd gotten word of his estranged father's passing in April. He was always so stoic. But not now. Now he was willing to talk, to express in words, how he was feeling. His wall finally began to fall down, collapsing into nothing but a pile of rubble.

"And I really am sorry," Adam stammered.

"It's alright, Adam."

"No. No it isn't," he said, shaking his head. "I've been treating you like shit and I didn't even realize it. But I should've. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to figure this out. I just can't believe you've put up with me. I mean, this morning when you weren't here, I thought you'd left for sure. And last night, I came in and I barely said two words to you. You were trying so hard to get something out of me and I just slammed the door behind me. I feel so guilty, I'm so sorry."

"Adam. Stop."

"But, I—"

"Stop. I understand. It's okay, I get it. Just calm down. You don't have to feel guilty anymore, alright? I forgive you. We'll work through this together, okay? I'll do whatever it takes. This is just a speed bump we have to get over, and we will, together."

Adam nodded, looking back down at the floor.

She moved her hand from his face down to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her as he laid his head on her chest. She was amazed at how he'd opened up to her, owning up to everything. He was never the type of person to be able to do that, to admit when he was wrong, always stubborn as a mule.

They lay there on the couch for a while; Adam was dozing in and out of sleep while Alexa sat there replaying their conversation over and over in her head, holding his hands in one of hers, running her other fingers through his hair, consoling him. She was terrified, not knowing where to go from here, but she knew everything would be okay. Things would finally go back to the way they were. Alexa began to feel a bit drowsy herself, so she let herself drift off to sleep, the first real peace she'd felt in months.


	7. Chapter 7

Adam woke around noon. They'd been asleep for a while, each of them emotionally exhausted. His eyes opened and he looked around but didn't move his body because Alexa was still asleep, his head still on her chest. He glanced down. They were still holding onto each other, their fingers tightly intertwined. He kept looking at their hands, their fingers, Alexa's chipped navy blue nail polish; it made him feel safe. Like he wasn't alone. It was the first time he'd felt this happy in months.

He lay there for a few more moments relishing in the comfort of having her there with him. Her chest slowly moving up and down, breathing in and out, as he listened to her heartbeat. She began to stir and he raised his head to get a look at her. She looked back at him and with a yawn she let out,

"Hi."

"Hey."

Adam adjusted his position and sat up straight and leaned toward Alexa, kissing her on her forehead. She closed her eyes to his touch. He sat back to get another look at her, his eyes moving over her gorgeous face. Then he remembered. Getting off the couch he said,

"Wait, I want to show you something."

He went to the darkroom and returned as quickly as he had left, but he was holding a picture. The one he developed of Alexa.

"Look what I found last night."

He handed her the photo and she took it from him, examining it.

"Where did you—"

"I found an old roll of film in the darkroom last night and developed it. This was the only photo on it, but I don't remember when this is from."

Alexa turned it in her hands.

"Neither do I…Came out nice, though."

"Yeah, you look beautiful. As always."

She looked up at Adam to see him wearing a smug little smirk. His trademark expression. She looked at him for a moment and then back at the photograph. Then handed him back the photo as he sat down beside her, examining it himself, not letting the smile leave his face. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"You know, I think—" but Alexa's sentence was cut short.

Before she could finish, Adam quickly leaned toward her and put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her close to him, then kissed her, hard. He left her dazed, not able to remember what she was going to say.

Then he sat back and rested his head on the back of the couch and turned his face to look at Alexa once more, that stunning smile still on his face. The smile that could make her weak if she stared at him for too long. The smile that could cheer her up even after the shittiest day of work. The smile that she hadn't seen in months. It was the first thing she'd noticed about him when they met 5 years ago. That amazing smile of his.

He didn't say a word to her; just sat and watched her come out of her daze, proud that he was the one that put her there. After they sat together for a moment, carrying on a silent conversation of glances on the couch, they got up and got dressed. Alexa called the restaurant and took a sick day and Adam called the studio and said he wouldn't be able to make it in for the shoot that day.

They spent the day together. Driving around and listening to the radio, Adam never took his hand from Alexa's. They argued over what to listen to, what movie to go see that afternoon, what to get for dinner. They were happy, glad to finally have things back to normal. For now.


	8. Chapter 8

Alexa stood over the stove preparing a meal for her and Adam. She was actually quite refined when it came to cooking, even at only 24 years old. She watched the clock on the wall, being careful not to let the food burn, as she held a glass of wine in her left hand and a whisk in the other.

**7:23pm**

She put the glass down on the counter when Adam snuck up behind her.

"You're distracting me," she said, giggling as Adam wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed her on her neck.

"I know," he muttered darkly. His voice was low and muffled by the hollow spot above her collarbone. Alexa paused and closed her eyes, but only for a moment, as Adam's alcohol-riddled breath moved across her shoulder and sent a shiver down her spine. She suddenly felt intoxicated, but she'd only had a few sips of wine so she knew it wasn't that.

He untied the black apron around her waist that she had taken from the restaurant where she worked. She was only a waitress, even though she probably knew more about food than the so-called "chefs" that worked there.

"Adam…"

He didn't answer her as he dropped the apron on the floor. She continued whisking away at the pan on the stove, trying to stay focused on what she was doing. But he made it damn-near impossible.

"The food will get cold," she teased, hoping that the suggestion of his favorite meal being ruined would somehow stop Adam's advances. But all hope was lost at this point. There was no stopping him.

Alexa let out a quick sigh of defeat just as Adam gripped the back of her head in his hand. Her smooth, dark hair ran between his pale, nimble fingers as he turned her face toward his and kissed her with all the passion he could muster up.

They pulled apart with a quiet smacking sound as Adam, again, left Alexa speechless with just a kiss.

"That's what the warm setting is for," he mumbled playfully as he gazed provocatively into her eyes, half chuckling at his own cheesy comment. Adam always had a way of persuading Alexa to do things; all he had to do was give her that look. She racked her brain but had no comebacks for him. She had very little will power when it came to this. So she reluctantly, but very willingly, agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

Adam rolled over and put out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him on his bedside table as he glanced at the red glow of the alarm clock.

**8:54pm **

He got up and pulled on his boxers and his t-shirt, which had been lying on the floor, and took a sip from the beer can on his dresser.

"How many have you had?"

"Huh?" Adam looked up at Alexa, who was getting out of bed as well.

"How many have you had?" she repeated.

He looked down at the can in his hand.

"Oh, uh, I don't know. Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not," Alexa said as she picked up Adam's button-down shirt from the floor and put it on.

The couple stepped out of their bedroom only to be greeted by a haze of smoke filling the kitchen and living room.

"Shit!" Alexa ran into the kitchen and over to the stove, coughing and waving her arms around the grey fog. She pulled out a pair of oven mitts from a drawer and put them on, then opened the stove, which let out another large puff of even darker smoke. She removed a pan and dropped it onto a cooling rack on the counter with a clank.

"Great. Just great," she said as she stood over the pan of something black and charred. "Well, looks like takeout tonight," she chuckled facetiously.

Adam walked back into the bedroom to retrieve his jeans and took out his wallet from one of the pockets. He thumbed through it, and except for a couple of old movie stubs, his license, a maxed-out credit card and a photo of Alexa, it was empty. He stepped back out into the living room and into the kitchen with his wallet.

"I have no money," he said blankly, and a little embarrassed, as he tossed his thin wallet on the counter.

"Oh, well, neither do I," Alexa replied as she stood up on the kitchen table to turn off the smoke detector, which had started obnoxiously beeping, the sound echoing through the apartment. Her voice was a lot more light and carefree than Adam's.

"Maybe you shouldn't have called in sick today," Adam said under his breath as he turned away from her.

Alexa stared at him as she got down from the table. She let out a short breath in her state of shock at his sly comment.

"Uh…you did too, Adam," she said.

"Whatever."

"Typical," she muttered.

He quickly turned back around.

"What?"

"I said 'typical,'" she repeated herself as she stood with her hands on her hips, making sure he heard her loud and clear this time.

"What is?"

"You. Always blaming somebody else."

"What the hell are you getting at?"

"Nothing. Forget it," she said as she turned around to rinse out the pan from the counter.

"No. You started this, you fucking finish it," he barked at her with the smell of alcohol still on his breath as he stepped over to her and grabbed her by the wrist, making her turn around. She shook his hand away once she faced him.

"No! Forget it! You just get like this when you've had a few, that's all. It's fine, Adam. Whatev—" but her sentence was cut short.

When he hit her, her hand flew up to cover her face. Her fingers moved over her burning cheek on the left side of her face. Her mouth hung open in awe and pain as a tear made its way out from behind her tightly shut eyes and ran down her fingers. She opened her eyes and watched as the droplet fell and hit the floor. She stared at the black and white checkered tile of the kitchen, dazed and unable to look up at him. But she felt him staring back at her.

Alexa very slowly brought her gaze back up to Adam, only to find him in as much shock as she was in.

"Oh my God…" was the only thing Adam was able to let out. He moved toward her but she backed up away from him. He held out his arms to her but she kept backing away.

"Lex, I'm so sorry, oh my God, I didn't mean to, oh God, I'm so sorry, Lex, oh God…"

She quickly moved around him and ran past him into the living room and into the bedroom. He ran right after her, but she slammed the bedroom door in his face. She locked it but he didn't try to get in.

"Fuck…" The shock of the situation began to sober him up a bit. "Alexa, come out, I'm so sorry. Please, just let us talk about this. Goddammit…I know, I fucked up! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" He begged and pleaded for forgiveness, but he already knew in the back of his mind that this wasn't going to end well. He had messed up too badly this time.

Inside, Alexa took off Adam's shirt and tossed it on the ground and got dressed in her own jeans and t-shirt. She grabbed her suitcase from the back of the closet and began messily stuffing all of her clothes in it. She pulled out a drawer from her dresser and dumped its contents into the suitcase, threw in her books from her nightstand, pulled out her cell phone charger from the outlet on the wall and shoved her cell phone in her pocket. She tried to ignore Adam's pleas.

"Lex, I'd never hurt you!" he cried.

She hastily zipped up the suitcase, grabbed it by the handle, and opened the bedroom door, much to Adam's surprise. She stared him right in the eyes as she spoke.

"Well, you just did, Adam."

He didn't even have a chance to speak before she brushed past him and made her way for the door.

"I'll have somebody come by for the rest of my stuff in a few days."

And with that, she slammed the apartment door behind her. Adam was speechless. He couldn't believe what he had done to her. The image of her red face and teary eyes was engrained in his mind. _He_ caused that. _He_ did that to her.

Adam didn't try to control his rage this time. He screamed as he made a fist with his right hand and punched the bedroom door, sending it flying open with a loud bang. It flung back and he saw the hole he'd left in the wood. He panted as he began to fell his knuckles ache, but they couldn't possibly have hurt as much as he did inside.

Downstairs, Alexa threw her suitcase in the backseat of the car and got behind the wheel. She called her friend Jamie and breathlessly explained what happened and that she needed a place to stay. So Alexa drove to her apartment, crying the whole way there, blasting the radio. By the time she arrived, she was exhausted. Jamie had an extra room made up for her and she let Alexa crash on the bed right away, no questions asked. All she could do while she tried to relax was replay that scene in her head again and again. She was so shocked by it, couldn't believe that the person she loved most would hurt her like that. Alexa ended up crying herself to sleep for three nights after that.


	10. Chapter 10

Alexa woke to the sound of the phone ringing. Startled, she opened her reddened eyes and looked at the clock on the wall.

**11:23am**

She scanned the yellow-painted room to recall where she was before quickly stretching and getting out of bed to search for her cell. She grabbed it from the dresser, not bothering to check the caller ID. She had to clear her throat before answering. Her voice was raspy from crying, and she sounded exhausted.

"Hello?"

"Alexa? Oh, thank God you answered."

She was still half-asleep when she answered the phone so it took her a moment to recognize the voice. But once she did, it made her worried. She hadn't heard it in quite a long time. The voice belonged to Scott Tibbs. She backed up from the dresser and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Scott, is that you? What's going on?"

"Have you heard from Adam?"

"I, uh—"

"I heard about you two."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Adam called me the other night. He was kind of a wreck."

Great. Another thing to make her feel terrible. She hung her head and blinked her eyes as a tear fell down her freckled cheek and dripped off of her nose. She wiped her face with her sleeve and cleared her throat again before she spoke.

"Oh. Well I—"

"It's okay, Alexa, we don't have to talk about it."

"Alright."

"So have you heard from him?"

"Well, no, I haven't. Not since the other night."

"Shit."

"Why? Scott, you're scaring me."

Scott paused before he answered. This only made Alexa more worried.

"Well I went over to his apartment this morning. I wanted to check on him 'cause I told him to come out to our gig last night and he never showed. The apartment door was open, but he wasn't inside. Today's Tuesday, so I know he doesn't have to be at the studio, unless his schedule's changed maybe?"

"No, it hasn't."

"That's what I was afraid of."

Alexa, terrified by what she was hearing, tried to rack her brain for a logical explanation. Whenever Adam wasn't working, he would have been at home, or until a few months ago, been out with Scott.

"Listen, let me call his cell. Maybe he's out doing free—"

"We both know he only ever does freelance at night," Scott interrupted. "Plus, I called his cell last night. No answer. Same thing this morning. He's always got that thing attached to his side, in case any work comes up."

Everything Scott was saying made sense, but Alexa was in denial about it. She didn't want to believe him.

"There's gotta be some reason for this, Scott. We can't jump to conclusions. Adam's not one to just pick up and leave like this." It hurt just to say his name.

"That's exactly what I mean, Alexa. He's not one to just take off. No warning, no nothing? I'm afraid something happened to him."

This was a lot to take in at once. Alexa leaned her body forward and rested her elbows on her knees, then ran the fingers of her free hand through her hair. She tried to ignore the knot twisting in her stomach. She had no more answers for Scott, no more bullshit explanations.

"Alexa?"

"Yeah, I'm right here, Scott." She let out a long sigh and looked up to face the ceiling with her eyes closed. "I'm worried, too. I just hope you're wrong about this."

"So do I."

But Scott was right. Something had happened to Adam. Something that neither of them would be able to comprehend. They ended up filing a Missing Persons Report at the police station, and after about 6 months, they called it quits and held a service in Adam's honor, even though not many people showed. They buried an empty casket for the purpose of "closure," something that Alexa never really got.

A few weeks after filing the report, Alexa moved back into the apartment when she knew, in her gut, that Adam wasn't coming back. She spent a countless number of weeks crying herself to sleep every night, refusing to take anyone's calls or accept any visitors. She sulked around the apartment, wearing Adam's clothes that fit too loosely on her petite frame. His assortment of t-shirts with various band logos, his Levis, everything. She even smoked an entire pack of his forgotten Marlboros one night, just to make the apartment smell like him again. It was her way of keeping him alive with her. But she knew he was gone. Alexa refused to forget about Adam. It was almost impossible to forget. She left his apartment exactly the way it always was: hardly any food around, CDs still in the stereo, developer in the trays of the darkroom, his scent still lingering on the clothes in his closet, pill bottles in the mirror cabinet in the bathroom. Everything was the same. It was as if time stood still in that apartment.

_This isn't healthy,_ her friends would say. _We're worried about you_. She didn't realize it, but Alexa's behavior made her seem more and more like Adam's with every passing moment. She became reclusive, accepting help from no one. She remembered the talk they had on their last morning together and how hard she knew it must have been for him to seek out help and admit he was wrong. But now she was a hypocrite, the perfect embodiment of the same behavior she scolded him for.

His face was the first thing she saw when she woke up and the last thing she saw before she fell asleep. She often dreamt of him as well; _Where have you been, Adam?_ That was what she'd ask when she saw him. _Nowhere. I've been here the whole time._ It was always the same dream. As if he'd never left her, he'd just gone away for a while. It was dreams like these that she'd wake up from with tears streaming down her cheeks. The pain of losing him was fresh after these dreams and she'd fall apart all over again, clutching the pillow he'd slept on beside her.

Little did Alexa know that her face was the last thing Adam would ever think about. Her perfect face, her freckles, her smile, her beautiful green eyes. It made him feel a strange sense of calm and gave him a small window of happiness and light in that dark hellhole. He dreamt of her as well, when he would drift in and out of consciousness, before that clear plastic bag made its way to his pale, blood-stained face to end his twenty-six years of life. The dank smell of death and decay would fade when he thought of her. The maddening silence would be broken by the sound of her laughter. The only thing able to make the guilt of hurting her stop washing over him again and again was his untimely death. No more guilt, no hate, no anger. He felt nothing anymore…


End file.
